“You’re going to be alone?” Marv and I exchange a look. “On Thanksgiving?”
I might not do things the way everyone else does, but this is insanity. Her? Alone? On a major holiday?
“I have stuff to do,” she says. “Catch up with work. Clean. Online shop.” She pauses before adding, “Record dirty videos of myself to not send to internet strangers.”
If she’s trying for a joke, she fails. Even Marv doesn’t offer his two paranoid cents.
She’s upset, it’s all over her face. It’s evident how much this matters to her and how hard it is.
“Either way,” I say. “I’ll send you the plans just in case.”
She’s silent a beat then surprises me by standing. “Well, thank you for tonight,” she says with a tight smile. “This was fun. Really fun.”
She walks behind the bar to grab her jacket and purse.
“Okay.” My eyes narrow. Marv takes a long sip of his beer, eyes bouncing between her and me. “You going somewhere?”
“Yeah.” She fumbles to get her coat on. “I should. It’s late.” To Marv: “Night, Marv. Thanks for the dancing.”
He flicks her a salute as I stand and walk her to the door.
Outside on the small patio it’s frigid; she’s stunning.
And leaving.
“Why are you going?”
She laughs, adjusting her coat and retrieving her keys from her purse. “What else would I do?”
“Stay.”
Her eyes narrow. “I can’t stay.”
“Why?”
“You haven’t asked me out.”
A laugh rumbles in my chest. “So that’s what this is all about?”
“Of course it is,” she says without heat, blue eyes bright under the strings of lights above us. “You said you’ve been thinking about it, and you haven’t. I may invite myself into clubs, but I’m a woman of virtue, I don’t invite myself on dates.”
I hate that she’s leaving, but I love the smile on her face.
“Maybe I will,” I tell her, dragging knuckles across the line of her jaw before shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans.
Even in the low lights, I see pink splash her cheeks.
“Maybe I’ll say yes.”
It hangs there. I could ask right now and she’d say yes. Instead I say nothing, her breaking the silence by saying, “Have a good Thanksgiving, Jay.”
I nod.
She leaves.
Then I stand in the parking lot, staring until she’s gone and wishing she wasn’t.
A Cookie Confession
